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| Cue "Flight of the Valkyries" |
I don't usually get sick so when I do, I notice it really fast. And I get a little anxious. I hate being sick. Well, who doesn't right? I looked at the clock: 5:45 am. I'd just finished giving Kaopectate to Greg B. who had been dealing with a flu for the past few days. Had I just got it from him? But that was just a few minutes ago. Can it work that fast?
Never mind where it came from, it was in me. I knew it. As the shift wore down to a close I had the inkling that I'd be calling Charmaine in a few hours. I was already achy and warm. When I got home I was already tired to begin with so I planned to just go right to bed. I woke up around noon hacking away. It was getting worse. Though I was drawn to just staying in bed I knew the symptoms could, and likely would, get worse yet so I drove over to Winn-Dixie and picked up some non-alcohol cough syrup, cough drops and ibuprofen. The war had begun and I was collecting ammo.
I called out on Charmaine's voicemail and she got back to me within a few minutes. The usual fakey concerned, non-committal voice. Well she learned one thing in management training I guess. Ironically, I just happened to have a 2-liter of Canada Dry Diet Ginger Ale, the beverage for sick people as ginger ale was treated in our house growing up. I poured a big glass of that on ice and after popping a couple of Ibuprofen and sipping a couple teaspoons of cough syrup, I went back to bed.
Sleep was sporadic. I was wheezing pretty well by now and started to really feel the chills of fever. Also, I felt weak to the point where I started imagining in a half-dream state that my body was having trouble keeping up with even pumping my blood at a capable rate and I felt like I was palpitating. Not sure if this was real, I was in a semi-conscious state but it was uncomfortable enough it made me get up a couple hours later. I had one prolonged sneeze attack but it lasted only a minute and didn't repeat, thankfully.
Despite the fact people usually lose their appetite when fighting the flu, I was actually ravenous. I nuked not only a leftover roast beef on egg noodle dish but also a rosemary-lemon chicken thigh with Spanish rice. (Damn I'm a good cook. No really...damn it. It's part of the reason I'm so fat, damn it!) The symptoms were all in the chest and joints. I didn't feel any stomach issues and I could breathe through an unblocked nose just fine, so taste wasn't affected.
I watched a movie on Netflix but towards the end of this hour and a half flick I was feeling very weak and achy and dove into bed as soon as it was done. Before I did, though, I popped a couple of Benedryl to insure I'd sleep better.
It was around 4:30 am when I awoke feeling much better. My coughs had not progressed beyond an occasional rasp here and there and I was less feverish. Or so it seemed. I sat on my porch with the last of my ginger ale and watched silently, in the dark, as my next door neighbor left his apartment, walked down the stairs and drove away in his dingy white '90s Dodge Neon. A car he sets an alarm to. I kid you not. Isn't this exactly what I spoofed as a Bellagio neighbor trope?
After about a half hour on the porch I got bored and sat in the living room with another leftover: red beans and rice with BBQ chicken and watched Renetto's Daily Affirmation BS via YouTube on the Samsung TV. I was catching up so it was yesterdays vlog and it was all about addiction, not just Andrea's but his as well. He defined the acronym H.A.L.T. and it took me back to my days in "program." I do admit that the H.A.L.T. model has actually helped me and it's an easy reminder to be proactive and prepared for triggers since you know they're gonna happen.
I made the, in hindsight, slight mistake of having a glass of iced coffee with my meal. This stimulated something inside me and before long, I was pooping out an icky brown sewage into the toilet. Took a hot shower (well, as hot as it gets which isn't very hot at all actually) dressed in my red sleeveless biker shirt and red OP longboard swim trunks (hey, they're comfortable and supportive so why not wear them around the house) and went back to bed. Yes, again. My energy levels were very short-lived.
I got up again around 1 pm? I don't know. Time is immaterial when you sleep and wake in an endless repeating cycle like this. Ric had called and texted the day before but it was during one of my sleep periods so I ignored it. He saw my Steam status as online (I was playing Dishonored a game I'd written off too early it seems back when I originally bought it. On second run, it seems pretty cool) and called me to play Civ. I agreed and we played for a few (yeah right, a few...try 9) hours but I had to bow out by 10:00 pm, I was achy and tired again.
I popped another pair of Benny hot pink tablets, slugged a good measure of syrup (was I down half a bottle already?) and slid under my oh-so-familiar covers. Slept pretty soundly 'till about 6:00 am and you'd think all this rest would bring me out of all this? On the contrary, I woke feeling like I'd lost ground on the battlefield. The coughs were deeper and more painful, my ears were ringing and my joints were uncomfortable in almost any position.
This fucking war has just begun.